


To Be Happy

by kaizuka



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Sort Of, Tags may be added, background plance, but basically just an everyday life au, keith works at a cafe, rating will change to an actual rating as plot progresses, shiro works at a sushi restaurant, they go to school and struggle with future plans and try to navigate a potential lovelife
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 22:07:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11930271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaizuka/pseuds/kaizuka
Summary: All Keith wants is to reach his goals as quickly and efficiently as possible, and every challenge thrown at him feels like life's way of telling him to give up. But, as he's quick to learn, 'what happens is not as important as how you react to what happens'. And, most importantly, that 'patience yields focus'.





	To Be Happy

**Author's Note:**

> Title from To Be Happy - Joey Pecoraro.
> 
> Soooo many quotes lol. I love sheith's dynamic and wanted to write something! Not gonna lie, I started writing this after a pretty stressful day, and the ideas just went on from there. Updates may be slow, but I really want to write for this one, as well as slowly and steadily continue writing for my other works<3

Keith slams down the oven door’s handle with a sharp snarl, and a part of him is grateful that the loud hum of the oven masks the sound from the customers in the front of the store. No one can see him aside from the security cams, but he’s not doing anything bad—yet. So it’s under the scrutinizing eye of the electronic devices that he flings down his oven mitt with a great vehemence (only to be slightly disappointed at the soft flopping sound it makes; he thought it’d at least be a little louder than that). 

Keith feels as if his life is just a tea kettle waiting to boil over. A piping hot kettle, waiting to pour scalding, steaming water preferably onto the people currently giving him hell; i.e. the old bat waiting impatiently by the registers for him to bring back “fresh” bread. Okay, well, metaphorically, or something. He’s not _that_ horrible as to wish pain on other people, despite how he’s currently feeling.

“They’re _fresh_ ,” he’d said moments earlier, in an attempt to convince the woman that, no, there was no chance of any more bread magically appearing fresh out of the oven. “They’re made right before we open, so the best I can do right now is heat it up a little warmer for you if you want it hot—“

“I want it _nice_ and toasty,” she’d interrupted, as she’d done several times already. The memory makes Keith’s skin prickle yet again, and at his sigh, a passing coworker makes a small noise of sympathy as they walk by, their arms laden with newly cleaned plates. 

The oven blares out a signal of his impending doom, and Keith all but flings it open, welcoming the stinging heat and feeling rather sorry for himself. 

“You alright?” Pidge asks as she passes, her eyes darting at him from beneath her glasses. The catering bag she’s carrying is nearly half her size, and Keith rips himself away from self-deprecation long enough to ask, “do you need help?”

“Nah, I’m fine.” She shifts the bag. “Besides, if that lady sees you doing something else, she might go nuclear.”

“No kidding. I was obviously doing something, and she goes, ‘ _hello_ , are there any more cashiers coming out?’ Let me just bow down and heed your every beck and call, lady.”

“Customers like that are the worst. But careful, or else that temper’s gonna get you in trouble,” Pidge cautions. She hefts her bag again, and Keith feels even worse. 

“Hey, come on, let me help you with that.”

“Dude, no! It’s fine, it’s not even that bad, I swear. Anyway, I know you’re normally fine with customers, but I’ve seen you when you’re mad…”

“I’m fine. It’s… fine,” Keith says feeling his temper cooling. Chagrined, he grabs the bread from its place on the rack, grateful to find it finally piping hot. Hot enough, hopefully, to the demon woman’s standards. “I’ll bring this out now, I guess.” God, he could think of ten million other things he’d like to do.

When he steps out of the back area to the crowded front of the store, he fights back a grimace at the sight of the woman, hovering irritably over by the registers like she owns the place.

Normally, Keith would have to admit that he’d never jump this quickly to anger, even with a customer this rushed and pushy. But after the news from yesterday… Keith resists the urge to squash the bread in his hands as he hands it over to the customer, who is still, somehow, complaining about something or other about the cafe. 

_Ineligible to apply._ The memory has Keith gritting his teeth around reassuring words to the irate guest. The back of his neck prickles as he feels the weight of his stress and the weight of the gathering stares from other customers. He hates the attention, he hates the scrutiny, he hates… he’s not sure, but he just hates how he chooses to feel about everything and anything at all.

Finally, the woman leaves, and Keith leans back on his heels, suddenly exhausted. He’d been supposed to clock out more than thirty minutes ago, but… the cafe hums loudly, filled with the excited energy of customers eager for freshly baked goods and/or morning coffee, and his coworkers at the register look as harried as he feels. With another internal sigh, Keith drags himself over to another register, pasting a tight customer service smile on his face. 

By the time he’s allowed to leave, Keith’s ravenous. He quickly pays for a pastry and snatches his complimentary coffee cup, quickly finding himself out the door in a matter of minutes. He likes his job, he’s grateful for his job, but days like these make everything seem absolutely futile.

His phone buzzes as he’s jamming his keys into the ignition of his car, and he squints tired eyes at the screen. 

[Lance]  
_Dude, Hunk’s working his new job at that sushi place starting tonight. He said he might be able to hook us up! You down?_

Keith likes sushi. He crams the rest of his pastry into his mouth swipes his phone unlocked with one hand. _Yeah,_ he writes, _I’m down. Sounds good._

[Lance]  
_Cool. Let Pidge know, yeah?_

[Keith]  
_Pidge, huh?_

[Lance]  
_What? Is she not our friend? Is she not allowed to come along? Stop being weird bro just text her_

Keith snorts around his mouthful of baked goods, amusement starting to overcome the irritability left over from work. _Hey man I didn’t even say anything. See you, and Pidge, tonight._

All that gets him is a rolling eye emoji. Keith smiles a little before sending Pidge (who is still trapped in the cafe, having started a few hours after keith) a quick text about dinner plans, and eases himself out of his parking space and towards home. He figures he can squeeze in a long nap before he has to even think about getting ready for tonight’s dinner. A nap and a few episodes of Brooklyn 99, he amends. 

 

 

—— — — —

 

 

The sushi place is jam packed. Given that it’s newly opened in a bustling shopping center, it’s no surprise. Keith admires the interior, quietly thinking that if the food was any good, then he’d definitely make this his go-to dinner place. 

“The prices are way better than the one we all usually go to,” Lance mumbles beside him, carefully eyeing the menu they’d propped up by the door. Pidge picks herself up on her tiptoes to peer over Lance’s arm at the menu, and almost without thinking, Lance tilts the menu down for her to see better. 

“Nice,” she says. “Damn. Everything looks good. I want one of everything.”

“Only if you’re paying for yourself,” Lance snorts. He props an elbow up on Keith’s shoulder, which is a precarious position considering Keith is only a little bit shorter than Lance. “What are you getting, buddy?”

“One of everything,” Keith says deadpan, “and it’s your treat.”

“Two against one,” Pidge says smugly. Lance lets out a snort. 

“You had better be kidding, cause I’m still trying to make my last paycheck last me till the next one. If I’m paying for all of us, we’re splitting a tiny ass bowl of edamame.”

Keith’s grinning at the sound of Pidge’s joking protestations when he catches sight of Hunk. _Uh oh,_ he thinks. He knows the expression on Hunk’s face because he wears it himself whenever things are particularly bad at the cafe. 

“Hey guys,” Hunk says, his normally jovial face looking absolutely grim. “I am having the worst time of my life.” This part comes in hissed undertones, and his friends lean in conspiratorially. 

“What? Why?” Lance asks, worry making his brow furrow. “What’s happening?”

“Well, I mean, things are still pretty new, and we’re trying to keep up with the amount of orders and stuff. I personally didn’t think we’d be this busy, you know? First week and all. But apparently it’s been like this since the very first day. But I hope you’re not too hungry, cause things are a little bit slow.”

“Yikes,” Keith says sympathetically. “I feel you, man. Sorry we’re adding to the stress.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” Hunk says, waving both hands in the air. “It’s been busy, but it’s been pretty cool, too. I know I’ll like this place once I get the hang of things. Anyway, I’m not _just_ here to complain, I’m here to show you to your table too.”

Lance lets out an eager whoop, startling a family waiting beside them. The baby stares at Lance, wide eyed, and he blows her a kiss. 

“Alright, alright,” Pidge says, snagging Lance by the hem of his jacket and tugging him behind her in the direction that Hunk has taken off. Keith blinks at the family, hoping that he’s conveying the proper amount of silent apologies, before he follows suit, weaving through tables to the one Hunk is patiently waiting beside. 

There’s a tiny “oops” before Keith feels a hand on his shoulder. He forces himself not to wheel around, mindful of the other tables around him that he could bump into. When he comes eye to eye with the waiter who almost ran into him, his breath catches. 

“Sorry,” the guy says, hefting a large bowl of ramen with one hand while still attempting to steady Keith with the other. The man has the most defined jawline Keith has ever seen, and while the scar across his nose is slightly daunting, it does nothing to take away from the fact that this man is the most handsome person that Keith has ever seen. 

“It’s… it’s fine,” Keith manages to choke out. The waiter flashes another smile at him before easily skirting past him, ramen bowl held precariously high in the air. With _those_ arms. _Oh man,_ Keith thinks. 

“Hel-lo,” Lance drawls from their table. “Are there anymore cashiers coming out?”

Keith turns to his friends with narrowed eyes, quickly heading over to their table. “Pidge fill you in on that customer from hell from this morning?”

“Yeah dude. Sucks.” Lance flicks the wrapper of his chopsticks at Keith in a Lance-like show of sympathy. “Almost on par with the customers that see you folding clothes, pick up the clothes you just folded, decide they don’t want them, and leave them ten times worse than when they first found them.”

“Horrible,” Keith says, as is expected of him. “Work sucks.”

“Yup,” Lance agrees, already languidly flipping through his menu. 

“Hunk, I thought you wanted to work in the kitchen?” Pidge asks, hardly looking through the menu at all. Keith figures she’s going to go right for the crunchyroll—the status of a sushi restaurant’s crunchyroll was the first way Pidge often judged its quality.

“I applied for this position and that one, but they needed more servers,” Hunk replies. “I could still end up in the kitchen eventually—or I mean, hopefully. I don’t really want to switch jobs just to be in the kitchen though, cause I just started at this one.”

“Sucks,” Lance says emphatically. “They don’t know what they’re missing out on. Your cooking skills are top tier level, Hunk.”

“ _Thank_ you,” Hunk replies, beaming. “Anyway, I gotta go. I’m not actually your server, but, uh, I can take your drink orders.” He grins. “I pretty much know what you guys want by now, though.”

After Hunk bustles off with the promise of another server coming by soon, Keith opens his menu, tapping at the laminated surface thoughtfully. Lance is in the middle of loudly comparing two different sushi rolls (Pidge says he should just get both), when a presence appears to Keith’s left. 

“Hey guys,” greets a deep voice, and Keith’s already flushing red even before he looks up and sees the server he’d nearly ran into earlier. “My name is Shiro, and I’ll be taking care of you guys this evening.”

“Hey,” Lance says easily, grinning at the guy in greeting. “Just on time, man. I think I’ve made my choice. You guys ready?”

“Yup,” Pidge says, already setting her menu aside. 

Keith makes a noncommittal-sounding noise in the back of his throat, choosing to bury his nose back into the menu instead. Lance plows on anyway, eagerly pointing out both rolls that he’d been agonizing over moments before. After Pidge places her own order, Shiro turns to Keith expectantly, smiling easily and naturally. “What about you, man?” he says.

“Uh.” Keith’s mind flashes back to a bowl of ramen, held aloft by strong, muscular arms. “Ramen.”

“…well,” Shiro says after it’s clear that Keith isn’t going to say anything further, “what kind? I can recommend a few if you want. The tonkotsu is pretty good.”

“That one then,” Keith says, and his voice cracks. Embarrassed, he clears his throat, but Shiro doesn’t seem to have noticed. 

“Great!” Shiro says. “I’ll put in your orders right away. Thanks guys.”

Keith tries really, really hard not to stare as Shiro walks away, but ultimately fails. It’s only when Pidge clears her throat that Keith whips his head back around, his ears immediately going hot when he’s greeted with twin expressions of smug amusement.

“Like what you see?” Lance asks, wiggling his eyebrows, and beside him, Pidge snickers behind her hand. “Looks like we need our drinks soon, cause you’re looking a little thirsty, buddy.”

“Shut up,” Keith says heatedly, ducking his head and silently promising himself to never, ever look at Shiro ever again. A table bursts into raucous laughter, and Keith looks up despite himself, only to see a group of people chattering animatedly with a chuckling Shiro. Keith swoons a little on the inside, then curses. Failed step one.

“If this place is any good, I promise we’ll always come back,” Pidge says, patting Keith’s hand affectionately. He represses the urge to pinch her cheek.

“I just… he’s handsome, okay?” Keith says, lowering his voice to almost a whisper. Lance scowls and leans in as a different table bursts into laugher next to them. 

“Speak up, Keith, I can’t hear you in here. It’s not like anyone’s listening anyway.”

Still, Keith clamps his mouth shut, choosing to fiddle with his chopsticks until a different server quickly places their drinks in front of them. Shiro passes by again, presumably to check on them, and smiles when he sees that they’ve gotten their drinks. He and Keith lock eyes for a second before Keith tears his eyes away, focusing wholeheartedly on the condensation dripping from his glass of iced tea. 

“You should leave him your number,” Pidge hisses at him, and Lance laughs.

“Are you crazy? I’d never do that,” Keith protests, the back of his neck heating up. “You’re starting to get the same humor as Lance. I wonder why,” he adds drily, fixing Lance with a pointed gaze. The latter merely snorts at him, and launches his balled up straw wrapper in Keith’s direction too. 

“Funny,” Lance says tightly, before shooting Pidge a sideways glance. He sticks his tongue out at Keith when he realizes that she’s been on her phone for the entire exchange, muttering something about ‘Matt and his inability to fulfill basic human needs’.

“I should have invited him too,” she says, disgruntled. “I _knew_ he wouldn’t eat. He’s always so busy with one project or another that he forgets that he needs actual nourishment like any regular person.”

“I like Matt,” Keith says, idly leaning his chin on his hand. “He’s cool. Sorry we didn’t think of inviting him before.”

“Yup. Poor guy is gonna run himself into the ground, working full time and getting his masters degree,” Lance chimes in.

“No kidding,” Pidge says, tapping vehemently at the touchscreen of her smart phone. “‘At least eat a sandwich or something.’ There. Hopefully he listens to me.”

Their idle talk moves onto other topics, and it’s not until Lance’s stomach growls audibly that they realize that their food is taking a long while to come.

“Hunk wasn’t kidding huh? Man,” Lance complains, leaning back into his seat and rubbing at his stomach plaintively. “I’m hungry.”

“Same,” Pidge says, leaning forwards and pressing her fingers against her temples. “Starting to get nuclear levels of hangry over here. We should’ve stopped for smoothies before this, or something.”

“Smoothies,” Keith repeats almost mindlessly, too preoccupied with trying not to stare at the food at the table next to them. He was _really_ hungry. And his iced tea hadn’t helped, despite the fact that he finished it completely. 

A hand lands on the chair next to him, and Keith startles as his friends perk up. 

“Hey guys,” Shiro says, looking a little harried for the first time that night. “Your food’s still not here yet, huh? I’m really, really sorry about that.”

“Hey man, no big deal,” Lance says, “we know the struggle.” Pidge and Keith make twin noises of agreement, and Shiro smiles gratefully.

“Still though, it’s not excusable.” Shiro turns his head and Keith finds him fully face-to-face with the object of his attraction. “I’ll check on it, and hopefully it’ll be out soon.” He flashes each of them a smile (Keith’s face heats up again, momentarily distracting him from his rumbling stomach) before heading off again, most likely to placate another table before heading into the kitchen. 

“How does he do that so easily?” Pidge says, pushing her glasses further up on the bridge of her nose in consternation. “Even I could stand to learn some customer service from him.”

“Same here,” Keith admits, thinking back to this morning. He still thinks that lady from this morning was the devil in disguise, sent to torment him regarding bread related atrocities. “I’d be losing my shit right about now.”

“Well, opposites attract,” Lance pipes up, wiggling his eyebrows again, and Keith frowns at him. “Seriously dude, you hardly ever show interest in anyone. Why not try and—“

“I don’t think that’s happening,” Keith says curtly, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m sure a guy like him is taken anyway.” Point made, case dropped. Lance lets out a solid harrumph. 

“Whatever. I’m hungry. Keith denying me the sight of him attempting to flirt is making it worse. Where. Is. My. Food.”

“There!” Pidge says, perking up excitedly. 

Keith looks up to Shiro placing Pidge and Lance’s rolls in front of them, offering both of them an apologetic smile. “Sorry guys, really. And your ramen,” Shiro says, turning to Keith again, “should be out in a bit too. I hate that I made you guys wait.”

“No worries,” Keith manages to say, and he even smiles this time as Shiro leaves. Lance nods approvingly as he stuffs his first roll into his mouth without missing a beat, and Pidge smacks him on the arm. 

“Wait for Keith’s food!”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Keith says. “I promise I’ll eat fast once it gets here, I just don’t want you guys waiting on me. I know you’re hungry.”

Lance and Pidge exchange glances, but the pull of their food has them hastily picking up their chopsticks again. 

“Suit yourself,” Lance says, before treating himself to wide bite of his food. 

Keith saying that he’d be able to eat fast was certainly an understatement. The novelty of being in a new restaurant and being served by someone he thought was kind of (okay, really) handsome was starting to wear off in the wake of his increasingly grumbling stomach. He wanted food, and he wanted it _now_. 

Keith sighs. 

“Here we have it!” comes Shiro’s voice cheerily, and Keith nearly startles out of his seat. All he’s able to do is look down at the steaming bowl of ramen when it’s gingerly plopped down in front of him. It takes him a beat longer, but eventually he turns to Shiro, a grateful ‘thank you’ ready on his lips.

“Sorry about that,” Shiro says quickly, as soon as Keith has turned to face him. “I promise it definitely won’t happen again.”

“No…” Keith begins, and then trails off when his mind goes blank.

“‘No’…?” Shiro echoes, beginning to look a little downcast. Lance and Pidge have paused with their food halfway to their mouths, eyes wide. 

“I mean, no problem,” Keith amends hastily, feeling his ears beginning to burn. If only he could easily fix his damn brain to mouth filter and actually _speak_ easily for once. “It’s all good.”

“Great!” Shiro replies, beaming once again, and Keith feels an answering smile turning the corners of his lips upwards. Only, he still feels awkward about everything, so it feels more like a grimace than an actual friendly smile. 

“And Hunk tells me you’re his friends, so I don’t mind letting you have his discount this time around,” Shiro continues, “what with this being our opening week and all.”

“Sweet, man,” Lance says eagerly, gratefully setting his utensils aside and giving Shiro a hearty fist bump. “It’s totally fine, we know how hectic food service can get. I’m sure you guys’ll get into the rhythm of things soon enough.”

“I’m hoping that’s true,” Shiro says, giving them an honest looking grimace. “To be completely candid with you, you guys have been one of my nicest tables this entire week. I appreciate it.”

He turns to Keith suddenly, and the latter stiffens again, back ramrod straight under Shiro’s stare. 

“By the way, ramen’s on the house,” Shiro says, taking all of them completely by surprise. “It came it in the latest, and for that I’m really sorry. Just think of it as us making sure you give us another chance, yeah?”

Keith gapes like a fish at him.

“That’s great of you!” Pidge cuts in quickly, and much to Keith’s relief. 

“Yes. Thank you,” he says stiffly, feeling heat suffuse his cheeks. “I’m really—thanks.”

“No problem. Enjoy your meal, guys,” Shiro says, and with that, he’s off. 

“Are they allowed to do that?” Keith hisses, leaning against their table until its edge digs into his chest. The steam from his _complimentary_ ramen tickles at his throat, and he finds himself consumed with both gratitude and slight guilt. “Like—what if he gets in trouble?”

“I’m pretty sure no one but that manager has that kind of power, so he must be one,” Pidge says, looking unperturbed. Lance, on the other hand, looks all kinds of smug and outraged (which results in an interesting looking expression on his face). 

“What the hell, man,” Lance says, eyeing both Keith and the ramen. “I’d say that I’m super jealous that you just got off scot-free for a meal, and for an _entire_ bowl of ramen. And I am. But I’m also kinda thinking that the guy would only do that cause he’s got an eye on you too.” Lance wiggles his eyebrows.

“It’s only customer service,” Keith mumbles, obstinately digging into his food. “I’ll help you guys pay for yours,” he adds, still feeling the dregs of his earlier (somewhat misplaced) guilt. 

“I don’t think so,” Pidge says, frowning. “That would entail me sharing some of my roll with you, which I’m not too keen on doing. But since that bowl is free, and it’s a pretty big serving…”

“Gimme some,” Lance says bluntly, already reaching across the table. Keith irritably bats his hand away before sliding his bowl to his friends to a closer and safer range. 

“Keith may be right,” Pidge says, after having properly enjoyed her roll, as well as a good helping of Keith’s ramen, “but I don’t think Lance is entirely wrong too.” Her eyes flit over to somewhere behind Keith’s head, before flicking them back forward to meet her friend. “Just a hunch.”

“Yeah, right,” Keith replies, determined not to get his hopes up. But he can’t help but feel a little twinge of it when Shiro drops by to give them their bill, apologizing once more and giving them all a dazzling smile, raising a hand to give Keith a fist bump before he leaves. 

At the doorway, Keith follows Lance and Pidge close behind, keeping one ear on their animated conversation, and another on Shiro at a nearby table. He’s nodding politely at the chatter of the table’s occupants once more, and Keith’s gratified to see Shiro laugh one more time before he’s fully out the door, following his friends back to his car. 

Keith doesn’t turn back around again (because that would be creepy, he thinks), so he misses Shiro turning to glance quickly at the entrance, gaze lingering a moment, before he turns back away and into the kitchen.


End file.
